“Oh? Do tell.”
“It’s not surprising, I suppose, when you consider that they got their start as robber barons back in the Middle Ages, kidnapping travelers to hold for ransom and blinding those who refused to pay up. And while that might be ancient history, they don’t seem to have changed much on down through the ages. The current Marquis’s grandfather—that would have been Robert, the Second Marquis—killed a man in a duel before he was eighteen.”
“Well, that was rather more common in those days, was it not?”
“It was. Except there were rumors that, rather than besting his opponent in a fair fight, Robert actually ran his victim through with his sword when the man’s back was turned. Some tried to discredit the tale at the time, but it was given more credence when first his valet, then his wife’s mother, died violently under strange circumstances.”
“Sounds like quite the rum character.”
“He was, indeed. And his son, the Third Marquis, was no better. He kept a string of mistresses, but even that didn’t keep him from seducing his best friends’ wives and daughters. One of those friends finally caught him in flagrante and killed him.”
“He sounds rather like Miles.”
She nodded. “I’ve heard some try to dismiss Miles Sedgewick’s exploits as those of a young man sowing his wild oats. But when you make a habit of ruining the daughters of tradesmen and innkeepers, you’ve passed a line.”
“And he did?”
“It was as if it was a game with him.”
Her words echoed something the half-pay officer, Captain Martin Roche, had said to Sebastian. “Do you know the name of his current mistress?”
“I don’t believe I’ve heard. He had an opera dancer in keeping up until a few months ago, but I understand Lord Rockman has her now.”
“Good God, where do you learn all this stuff?”
She gave him a level look. “People talk. I simply listen and remember. Or at least, I usually do,” she added with a troubled frown. “There was a particularly sordid rumor making the rounds some years ago, shortly before Stamford bought Miles a pair of colors and he went off to the wars. But I wasn’t particularly convinced it was true, and now I can’t seem to recall the exact details.” She sighed. “I must be getting old. Let me think on it a bit, and it may come to me.”
“What do you know of his wife?”
“Eloisa Platt?” The Dowager sniffed again. “The father is a hopelessly pushing mushroom, of course. You’ve heard he’s managed to get his son betrothed to Haskett’s daughter? Of course, everyone knows that Haskett is all washed up, so I suppose he had no choice.”
“Is it true Eloisa was in the family way when she married Sedgewick?”
“Of course she was. Platt would never have agreed to the match otherwise. She’s much prettier than the sister who caught a baron, so he had set his sights even higher with her. Since then she’s managed to cultivate a reputation as a levelheaded, sternly religious young woman, although she can’t be too levelheaded if she allowed herself to be seduced by a younger son in search of a rich wife.”
“Well, she would have been quite young, and Sedgewick could be quite charming.”
“Oh, yes. His kind tend to make a study of it, wouldn’t you say?” She paused for a moment, her expression thoughtful.
“What?” he asked, watching her.
“I remember hearing several months ago that the family’s governess was let go rather hastily. Seems Eloisa dismissed her for allowing Sedgewick to seduce her.”
“When was this?”
“When you were in Paris, sometime around February or March. Eloisa turned her off without a character.”
“Do you recall the governess’s name?”
“Good heavens, no; I doubt I even heard it.” The Duchess fixed him with a level stare. “I understand that whoever killed Sedgewick also castrated him. Is that why you’re so interested in the women in his life?”
“Was that bit of information in the Morning Post?”
“No, I heard it at Lady Sefton’s ball last night.”
“Ah.” He drained his teacup and set it aside. “What do you know of Isabella McPherson?”
“Sir Montgomery’s wife? Beautiful woman. Are you saying she was another of Sedgewick’s conquests?”